Despite the cover and protection of the large shroud that engulfed the continent of Crue Efros, many deigned the light that did manage to slip through abhorrent. Not unbearable, but becoming spoiled in their comforts. So it was that in this time of quiet that he often traveled, unwilling to deal with the attention of those who would gawk and gather - question his motives or where it was he was going. While in truth his movements were not born of anything suspicious, wed to his work, his duty upholding. His superiors had long accepted his distant behavior and had grown to even trust and depend in his aloof cold shoulder. So it was this day that he rode out to check how the situation was continuing in Dunmeath. To ensure there was no building rebellion, and if there was.

He was to crush it.

There would be no flames left to fan the ambitions of freedom. The grasp of the Red Queen would be that of a steel vice - an iron fist that would one day come to encompass the entirety of this world. Perhaps when her victory here was assured they would expand their goals. Maybe he would even gain the chance to set eyes upon his homeland once again. A place that seemed worlds away, like a dream that he could only remember the faintest of impressions of. His mortal life was much the same, before he was stripped of the shuffling coil without choice. A strength he had been confident he could conquer. That he could outlast. That he had failed to quell in the end. Another monster. Before that immoral, carnal thirst his steel edged will and determination had wilted to the softness of a decaying weed.

A movement from the corner of his eyes drew his attention, and he would straighten from where he had knelt near the stream. His mount still continued to drink deeply from the cold, babbling brook. However, Osmanthus's attention had been captured by something. The feline was quick on his feet as he departed the saddle and leapt through the dense underbrush. He followed after, his gait much slower as he allowed the horse to continue its rest. After all, it was best to keep him well maintained on such a long journey in the event that he was needed. His hood remained drawn, a fluctuation of magic allowing him to peer through the inquisitive beryl eyes of the cat as he spied upon the only other trespasser nearby. One he came upon before realizing as his companion turned to peer at him himself. He blinked. Once. Twice. Clearing away the remnants of the connection as the familiar rubbed along his leg. "Greetings."

The sun was beginning to sink now, its apex far beyond it. The wood was darkening with the bruising twilight of the heavy oncoming night, further crushing under the supernatural veil that smothered the natural array of the heavens. How long had it been since he had witnessed true sunlight now? Something more than the mere visage of it from within the spires of a tower which the interior smothered him in obscurity. Even those had been before Lady Kaplan's rise to power. Before she assumed the throne as the Red Queen, the shroud had been amassing, growing under the false premise of gloomy thunderheads and the dreary drizzle of rain. It had allowed she and her associates the luxury of movement during the day, something that had become of the utmost necessity during the initial phases of her takeover. Some of which he had aided in, though it had been the mid to later stages, as he was... preoccupied prior.

The recollection has a hand idly wring the reanimated skin hidden beneath the long sleeves of his attire. A motion halted as instead his grasp ascended to push back the hood that threatened to swallow his features. “Oh, Hello.” Her voice was soft, cherubic as it departed her lips. Her eyes narrowed upon him, faintly, as if she had issue discerning him from their surroundings. A curiosity that bid him tilt his head softly. Perhaps she held a sensitivity to the golden chariot as well, though he sensed a pulse, the blood that flooded her veins. Her scent that of entirely mortal precedence, lacking even the tell-tale sign of bonding. A human with an aversion to the light in which they felt so safe? An oddity, at least as far as he was concerned.

“Is that your horse up ahead? Its rather pretty, I think.” His gaze shifted to follow her inclined direction. Back tot he small bend where the stallion remained, picking lightly at the grass that sprouted around the gaps of lichen covered rocks. "Nefarim." He answered, and the Arabian would raise his head attentively, ears lancing forward, though his feet were reluctant to follow the call, and with no sense of urgency bereft upon his master did he return to his feast. "And yours?" Despite the question and the gesture, he maintained his distance from the rather large mount. Animals that were not trained by vampiric hands often times did not feel inclined to allow the undead to touch them, often times becoming flighty or outright bolting, and he saw no reason to raise alarm.

“It is a handsome name.” It wasn't often he would pass the time to exchange pleasantries with his fellows in Lavalles. However, they often held no interest in the names of horses or the smaller details of the world. Not like those he once did, a simple inclination from a past that was all but long forgotten. It felt like a dream then, as did the fear of death. While it was certainly still possible, in the long, unbearable years that had followed, he began to see the finality of it and of mortal lives somewhat as a blessing. There was even soft envy to be found within his heart, a hunger for that simple feat of life that had been woefully robbed of him. Never had he been among the zealots of those who deemed themselves 'his people' that craved immortality, an innumerable expansion to their days. Gluttons to a fault, a distinguished breed of loathsome pests. Perhaps that was why he cared not to converse with them. What was there to truly talk about with those who were as old as he? What was there to teach? To learn?

“Her name is Envy.” Came the soft answer, a delicacy to her voice that matched the fragile apparition of she. Beyond the veil of humanity, her bodice seemed akin to frost, the last of which clung to the beginnings of spring and oft times spelled doom for the dulcet blooms trying to thrive within warmer days. The same that matched her stare. The name caused him to tilt his head, an odd name for a horse, but it was only within his opinion. It was often theorized that names given to beloved pets were often reflections of their owners. Perhaps there was something she yearned for as well, but could never quite grasp. Maybe he was simply over thinking. “She can be quite the trickster.” A slight smile touched his visage, a likeness to both, he supposed. “I merely wanted to get away for a while, but I believe she has purposefully gotten us lost.”

The slight simper that warmed his expression fell, the soft glow of his sterling stare casting towards the curve of his shoulder slightly. He hadn't been directly followed, naturally. However, it did not mean he would be the only perceivable threat to her safety here. Not when she had seemingly crossed the borders into Crue Efros unbeknownst to her. "It's not my concern, but you should be careful of where you let her take you from now on." He would warn, allowing his gloved hand to reach out in direction to the mare, allowing her to make what reaction she would. An unspoken warning. A wordless announcement. "Do you know where you are?" His sight would return to her at her last question, the well mannered way in which she spoke. Was she part of an aristocracy? It had been quite awhile since he had heard a mortal display themselves in such a way, having grown accustomed to their slang and the pauper way they spoke. A mere few years since they had lost control of their country and it felt as though the majority of them had forgotten they were once kings and queens. If she was, he was keenly interested in where such a settlement resided. “If I may, sir, are you a traveler?” The hand that had reached out to her steed would withdraw, instead curling thoughtfully under the curve of his chin. "You could say that. I'm currently making the trip to Dunmeath to assess the situation there."

Her eyes were sensitive, he decided alas, however the level of that seemed to vary, or perhaps it was the fading rays of light that plagued her vision. Her stare seemed slightly unfocused, appraising the movement of the trees far beyond his head rather to gaze directly at him. Not that he held preference for her to look at him, nor did it seem she was ignoring his presence to be rude or condescending. Both of which meant as little to him as the promise of coin. Nefarim stirred in his station, his tail flicking as he paced in spot for a moment shaking out the lengths of his mane. He would loosen his hold on the reigns, bidding the horse forward, while keeping his grasp taut enough to mind his steps to a comfortable pace, unsure how skilled the maiden was in horsemanship. Going by her hints within conversation, she often allowed the Fresian to take lead of their direction, but it seemed to be a habit of comfort rather than not. A lot of time spent with the beast. A friend.

“I heed your warning sir,” she spoke, and he was uncertain if she duly noted the potential threat that could have befallen her. Again, a concern that was not his to bear. He loathed to see the treatment of humanity within the capitol and its surrounding lands, but in the same breath, so was the way of the world and the day in which they lived. The advancement into Vufrien had already begun, their victory over Dunmeath declared finality, soon, he wondered where it was that they and the dogs would seek refuge from the Red Queen and her regime of damning dominion. Would they take to the sea? To those unknown lands outside the fogged edges of their map? Perhaps back to the home that had originally birthed him. Could he recognize its features anymore? Was it still scarred by the tragedies of war as well? Its soils drowned and infertile now from the usurpation of carmine from countless corpses? Did the flowers that once flourished within his old kingdom grow to cover the rolling knolls and hills once more? Were they true memoirs? Or were the delicate white star points naught but a twisted recollection from a distant dream? The softness of grass against his skin, the warm breath of the summer sun bearing down upon his arms and face.

He was pulled from the reveries of the elden days, long lost to the ever shifting tides of time by the breathy chirp Osmanthus gave the young lady at her wave, his sterling gaze glancing to the large feline who seemed entirely content within his seat now. However, he had risen from his lazy slouch to a more alerted seat as his large eyes turned towards the emerald canopy over them. Now doubt looking for birds to harass, a favorite of his past times, since attention had been given to him. “Of course,” She spoke as he ran his hand along the feline's head, rubbing slightly behind his ears. “You do have my thanks sir – “ He would turn to face her as she paused, though her reasoning became apparent soon enough as she spoke once more. “Ah, I do not think I ever caught your name if I may? My name is Avarice.”

Gesturing to his familiar, he would entertain her. "This is Osmanthus." Another chirp accented his calling, this one long and drawn out by chattering teeth as he felt the familiar pounce from the back of the saddle towards the stretching eaves above them. No doubt having spotted the flutter of wings to draw his attention - no matter how poor a hunter he could be atimes. Spoiled in a life of luxury. "My name is Theodred. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Avarice."